


Nothing Is Real (Dean/Reader)

by deans_other_angel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean/Reader - Freeform, F/M, Supernatural - Freeform, nothing is real
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-04 21:38:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3091187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deans_other_angel/pseuds/deans_other_angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You wake up with no memory of the past 3 years, to find you and the Winchesters have seemingly settled down with normal lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

You woke up suddenly with a start, your chest rising and falling heavily with your rapid breathing, sweat covering your body and causing your (h/l, h/c) to stick to your clammy forehead. You sat up in an instant, quickly whipping your head side to side in desperate search of anything that would help disclose where you were, but you could see nothing in the pitch black room.   
The sound of a groan coming from beside you caused you to jump and quickly shuffle away from where the noise had come from, sensing movement after from the opposite side of the bed to where you’d apparently woken from. Your hand fumbled beneath your pillow, knowing that if this was your bed you’d of no doubt hidden a gun beneath it, but you felt nothing but sheets and pillows.   
There was a small clicking sound followed by light filling the room, and you quickly turned to see a male figure leaning out of his side of the bed where he’d just turned on a small bedside lamp. You were about to jump out of the sheets and make a dash for the door, as the room and everything in it seemed completely unfamiliar to you, but you froze the second the man next to you rolled over and revealed his identity.  
“What’s up, (y/n)? It’s like 4.30 in the morning.” Dean’s deep and groggy voice sounded as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, squinting a little against the recently introduced light before looking up at you.  
“D-Dean?!” you stuttered in shock and surprise, your mouth agape and completely dumbfounded.  
He groaned as he sat up properly, rubbing his eyes once more exhaustedly. “Who were you expecting? The Staypuft Marshmallow Man?” he quipped before yawning and scratching his bare chest absently, looking to you for a reply.   
“D-Dean…” you started a little awkwardly, trying to steady your still racing heart, “why are we… in bed together?”   
You felt like in was a stupid question, and even more so with the baffled look Dean gave you, but you two had never shared a bed before in your lives. Heck, you weren’t even in a relationship. You may have known each other longer than either of you could remember, but you’d never been any closer than the best of friends. Considering your line of work, the possibility of a relationship had never even cropped up in conversation, as more often than not you were too busy working, researching or generally hunting to have even considered it. But then again, there was no lying to yourself about the fact that you’d always had a very strong soft spot for Dean, deep down.   
Once the man in question had finished staring at you in confusion, he eventually began to answer you slowly, as if unsure whether or not you were being serious or it was some kind of joke. “Uh… why don’t you check your left hand, Sherlock? Might answer your question.”   
You couldn’t help rolling your eyes. At least Dean’s sarcasm and humour were still present, even if nothing else at all in the room looked familiar to you. However, the vague answer admittedly left you feeling unsure on what checking your hand would help to clarify, even as you reluctantly pulled your gaze from Dean to check your hand nonetheless.   
You gasped and almost shrieked the second you looked, your other hand lifting to cover your mouth in absolute shock and partial awe at what you witnessed upon your finger. The sight alone was enough to leave you speechless and considerably more confused that this whole situation had already made you.  
But out of all the things you ever could have expected to see, a glistening silver engagement ring was definitely not one of them.


	2. Part 2

“Ok, ok, wait a minute,” you started shakily, closing your eyes to try and organise your thoughts, “what the hell is going on?! Why are we in bed together? Why aren’t we in a crappy motel room? Why the hell am I wearing an engagement ring?? Dean, what is going on?!?” Your voice became shriller and worked up with every question you asked, panic quickly overtaking you as you then started hyperventilating.   
“Whoa, whoa, hey take it easy!” Dean placed his hands on your shoulders in an attempt to calm and steady you, concern lacing his features. “Jeez, (y/n), what the hell’s gotten into you?” He moved to place a hand on your cheek and stroke it gently, giving you a sweet smile. “Usually I’m the one having nightmares and freaking out at crazy hours in the morning, not you. You’re messing with our natural order.” He joked slightly, trying to make light of the situation and relax you somewhat.  
You took some deep breaths, unable to help smiling as Dean tried to lighten the mood, before trying once again to speak a little more calmly. “Dean, none of this makes sense to me,” you started to explain slowly, struggling to word things in a way that wouldn’t make you sound insane. “The last thing I remember is hunting something together, we hadn’t figured out what it was yet but-”  
“Wait, wait, wait, hold up a sec,” Dean cut you off abruptly, frowning in confusion. “(Y/n), we’ve not been hunting for the past 3 years!” He spoke the sentence as if he were breaking bad news to you, watching your face intently.   
Your eyes went wide as once again you were overcome with shock. “What?!” You quickly started to grow panicked once more, “No, no, no, that’s insane! We were literally just on a hunt! This doesn’t make sense!”  
“(Y/n), do you have any idea how crazy you sound?” Dean attempted to reason with you, “You were obviously having a nightmare, just try to calm down and think for a minu-”  
“Dean, I’m serious!” You were the one to interrupt him this time. “I was not dreaming, I swear! The last thing I remember is hunting something, we heard a call on the police scanner, and went to check out the location. There was nothing there but an abandoned house, so obviously Sam said it was a trap, but you being you charged in there anyway so we decided to scope the place out. We got separated somehow and the next thing I know, I was attacked from behind and knocked out cold! Then all of a sudden I wake up in bed next to you with a ring on my finger! I feel like I’ve been slipped the biggest mickey ever.” You let out an exhausted sigh, even after having explained everything none of it made any sense still, and your head was beginning to ache from how freaked out you were.  
Dean remained silent for a moment as he took in all the information you’d given, trying to process it all in his mind. He ran a hand through his hair in thought, his mind working to find some kind of explanation or some way to make sense of any of this. “Look,” he eventually spoke in a confident and supportive tone, squeezing your shoulder reassuringly, “whatever this is, we’ll figure it out, ok? Uh, do you want to go down stairs? I’ll make some coffee and we can try work this out.”  
You nodded gently, a warm feeling growing in you to still have Dean’s support and care, just as always. Any small thing that was still the same to you was very welcome right now amongst all this strangeness.  
He placed an arm around you and hugged you as he repeated his words to you softly, “We’ll figure this out, ok? Don’t worry.” He moved forward and planted a gentle, loving kiss sweetly upon your lips, before moving away and saying sincerely; “I love you.”   
You visibly stiffened at his actions and words, your entire body freezing as you once again tried to process what had just happened. Your heart felt like it was racing a hundred miles an hour, and your cheeks flooded with red as your face heated up in a matter of seconds.  
Dean watched you with concern, your reaction to his kiss unnerving him. “What? What is it?”   
A darker blush covered your cheeks as you finally unfroze, but only enough to look awkward and embarrassed instead, your voice coming out a quiet whisper. “Dean… we… we’ve never k-kissed before…”  
This time it was Dean’s turn to look shocked, his eyes going wide but traces of sadness and even hurt were visible behind his expression. “Wha… what?”


	3. Chapter 3

You sat sipping your coffee tentatively in what was apparently yours and Dean’s, surprisingly normal looking, kitchen. Your head hurt, but as you talked things through with your supposed fiancé, you were slowly beginning to calm down. As much as you could at least, considering the circumstances.  
“So, let me get this straight,” you began, “in this life, universe, dimension… wherever it is I am, we stopped hunting 3 years ago?”   
Dean nodded with a smile, raising his mug before taking a sip. “Yep.”  
“And you and I are dating?”  
“Engaged.” He quickly corrected, looking more than slightly hurt by your error.  
You gave him an apologetic look. “Engaged. So, this house…” you gestured around yourself, “this is ours?”  
“Yeah, it was a bargain.” He smirked at the memory, “We’d saved the estate agent some time ago from a vamp, she let us have the place dirt cheap.”  
“Ok,” you rubbed your temples, still fighting your headache, “what about Sam? Or Cas?”  
“Sam lives a few blocks down,” Dean explained, his expression still showing a hint of disbelief at your lack of memory. “He settled in with a girl called Emily, who works with the fire department.”  
You smiled, “Typical of him to find someone who saves lives for a living.”  
“Hey, considering our family history, anyone who’s an expert at fighting fires gets an A+ in my book.”  
“Guess I can’t argue there,” you laughed lightly, your heart warming to see how relaxed and actually happy this Dean seemed to be compared to the one you hunted with. “And Castiel?”  
A thoughtful look overtook Dean’s features, an idea occurring to him. “Actually yeah, I should’ve thought of him sooner.”  
You raised an eyebrow quizzically, unable to question what he meant as he lowered his head and started one of his ‘prayers’.  
“Oh, Castiel, I pray to thee that you get your feathery ass down here, because we have a problem on our hands… and we need your help.” Dean opened one of his eyes curiously before opening the other and lifting his head, searching the room for the angel.   
There was a short pause before Castiel appeared directly behind where Dean was sitting, a vague smile on his features as he saw the two of you.  
“Hello, Dean. (Y/n),” he nodded at each of you in greeting. “What appears to be the problem?”   
Dean jumped at Castiel’s sudden entrance, before gesturing to you and getting straight to the matter at hand. “It’s (y/n), do you think you could use your mojo on her head or something? Try and find out if there’s anything wrong with her.”  
Castiel momentarily narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Why? What’s wrong with her?”  
“Well, I have a suspicion that perhaps one of your angel pals has zapped her into the future, and that this isn’t our (y/n).” he explained before finishing off his cup of coffee.   
The angel frowned, briefly switching his gaze to you before returning it to Dean. “No, this is definitely the (y/n) from here and now. I would’ve known instantly if she’d been from another time.”  
Dean fidgeted uncomfortably, that was one idea out the window. He stood up and moved to the sink to quickly wash out his mug, before turning and leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Ok… option 2 then, she’s somehow got amnesia and can’t remember anything from the past 3 years. No quitting the life, no dating, no engagement, nada.”  
The trench coat wearing male looked to you with an air of surprise and concern. “Is this true, (y/n)? You can’t remember?”  
You shook your head, “Apparently not.”  
You relayed all the information you had and the last thing you could remember to Castiel, who listened intently before giving response.  
“I can see why you might of thought it was an angel’s power at work here, Dean.” He looked to the currently yawning man, “But I’m afraid there’s not an angel behind this. Has (y/n) been hit on the head at all recently? Any chance of concussion?”  
Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know, I don’t think so. Could you just… use your magic touch or whatever it is you do? Fix her!” It was clear that tiredness was currently wearing on the ex-hunter, along with concern and worry spurring on his sharp tone.   
Cas frowned, unappreciative of how rude Dean was being in his opinion. “It’s hard to just ‘heal’, Dean, when I don’t know what it is I’m healing here. I can try my best to find out what’s wrong, but you have to understand there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to fix this.”  
Dean waved a hand, trying to get the angel to hurry. “Alright, I get it. Can you just… try?”  
The angel nodded, turning to you once more with a serious look, before raising his two fingers and placing them on your forehead.   
You closed your eyes, and for a moment a flash of brilliant bright light seemed to fill the insides of your eyelids, but in less than a second it was gone. You felt the pressure of Castiel’s fingers on your forehead leave, and you opened your eyes curiously to look at him. “I… I don’t feel any different. I still don’t remember.” You took in the angel’s straight and sincere expression, making the anxiety and panic rise within you once again. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?!”  
“What is it, Cas?” Dean stepped over to the table again quickly, running a hand over your head caringly before returning his attention to the other man. “Did you find anything?”  
Castiel paused, his expression troubled and reading deep thought. “No.”  
“We’ve been here before, Cas,” Dean looked at him a little wearily, “is that good or bad?”  
“It’s… difficult to explain.”  
You looked up to Dean with worry, his eyes reading your expression and making his heart ache. “Well, try and explain!” he demanded of the angel, his feelings winning control of his temper.  
The angel sighed with some frustration, trying to think of the best way to word things. “This isn’t like what happened with Sam and the wall that Death put up to block out his memories. There is no wall stopping (y/n) from accessing her memory of the past 3 years. There is also no amnesia, there’s no injury that could have caused this memory loss. The simple fact is, I can’t find them, the memories just aren’t there… and it seems they never were.”


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel began to explain to the two of you how experiences and memories take up space within the mind.  
“Forgotten memories are still there, just lost or out of reach,” the angel stated matter of factly, “whereas when memories are removed via a spell or any other supernatural manner, an empty space is left where the memories once resided.”  
Dean was staring at Castiel as if he were trying to explain quantum physics, “Look, just cut the technical crap! Is she never going to remember me?!”  
The other man sighed, “She’s not even lived the memories, Dean! I’m sorry.” He paused, looking as if he was listening to something unheard for a moment before speaking again. “I have to go. I’ll try to find out what I can about this.”  
“No, Cas, wait! Don’t you dare!” but before Dean had even finished his objecting the angel was gone. “Damn it!” he cursed, pacing around the kitchen and running his hands through his hair.

There was a long silence as you found yourself unsure of what to do or what to say here. After Castiel left you agreed to let Dean do all the usual tests on you, silver knife, holy water, salt, the usual, but it was obvious you were straight up human.  
The ex-hunter was obviously distraught, and you were beginning to get the feeling he didn’t trust you now that he knew you seemingly weren’t the ‘you’ he thought you were. He paced around the kitchen for a while longer as the awkward silence loomed, but you felt at ease when he eventually sat down and sighed in a calmer manner.  
“So,” he began after a moment’s thought, “you have no memories at all of being with me?”   
It was obvious to you that he didn’t want to believe all of this, and the more you thought about it, the stronger you didn’t want to either. In this life, you and Dean were together, you’d stopped hunting, you had a house, and from what you could tell, the two of you were actually pretty happy and content together. It seemed preferable to the hardships and rough life you lead still hunting, you found yourself wishing you did have these memories you seemed to be missing, and that this life was yours after all. You sighed solemnly, “I remember hunting. It’s all we’ve ever done.”  
Dean smiled lightly, although it seemed melancholy. “We did for a long time, I honestly regretted not breaking us… well, me and my (y/n), out of the life sooner.” He paused in thought, “Maybe she’s still out there, if you’re not my (y/n) then maybe she’s been kidnapped or taken.” Even as he said the words it didn’t sound as if Dean believed them, but he was clutching at straws trying to think of an explanation.  
“Maybe,” you said quietly. “Is there a way you can check? To somehow test if I’m you’re (y/n) or not.”  
He looked down with a frown, his mind working to think of how he might be able to test you. “A few months back,” he began, still staring at the table as he spoke, “you sliced your hand open on a kitchen knife. It was a pretty deep cut.” He actually laughed slightly as he recalled the memory, the sight warming your heart a little. “Y’know, even after all your experience cutting off monsters heads with giant knives and machetes, you always were so crap when it came to using kitchen utensils.” He looked up at you with that trademark smirk, “You couldn’t cut the crusts off a sandwich without losing a finger.”  
You scoffed at him with a laugh, rolling your eyes with a playful “shut up” although you knew he was right. Dean always joked about that with you, whenever you made your own food he’d say those kinds of dumb remarks, he’d always mocked your clumsy knife-work with cooking.   
As you both shared the little laugh, your eyes met with smiles, and for a moment, you both recognised each other as the Dean and (y/n) each of you knew… even if it was only for a fleeting second.  
“Uh… anyway,” Dean eventually broke the eye contact, itching the stubble just below his right ear, “my (y/n) would still have a scar from that cut, so… I suppose even if you don’t remember, you’d surely still have it on your hand if you did in fact experience it.” He gestured to the joint between his thumb and forefinger, to show where the cut was.  
You sighed sadly, “I don’t remember ever having a cut there.” You looked over your right hand, surprised how sad you actually felt that there was nothing there, partly because of how much this whole thing seemed to be hurting Dean in front of you. However as you looked up to him again he shook his head.  
“It was your left hand.”  
You cocked your head, frowning as you changed to looking over your left hand. “Oh my God…” you went wide eyed, the slightly raised and rough skin present in a line between your thumb and forefinger showing there had indeed been a cut there recently. “I-I’ve never had a cut there,” you stuttered, “I’ve never had a scar there…”  
An unsure smile spread across Dean’s face, the male finding himself a little relieved by this, even if things weren’t perfect. “Well, even if you can’t remember, at least I know it’s the real you.”   
You could tell it didn’t seem like Dean was 100% convinced, but the case still appeared to be that it was slightly more likely you really were the real (y/n) from whatever universe this was. Which made both of you feel somewhat better, if only a little. There were, of course, still a lot of unanswered questioned to be looked into.


	5. Chapter 5

There wasn’t really any chance that either of you would be sleeping any time soon, so instead of returning to bed you moved to sit in the living room.  
You felt awkward as you tentatively sat down on the edge of the couch, feeling more than slightly out of place in this house that was meant to be your own, whilst Dean relaxed into a large and quite comfy looking armchair nearby.   
You found yourself watching Dean closely as he sank into the cushions of the chair with a deep sigh, the ex-hunter instantly looking complete as he fitted perfectly into the piece of furniture. Even if you didn’t recognise this place as your home right now, it was obvious that that was ‘Dean’s chair’. A pair of warn boots kicked off at the side, an old blanket draped over the back for cold nights in front of the TV, and a couple of empty beer cans on a small coffee table to his left, accompanied by a photo in a frame. There was no doubt about it, that was Dean’s chair.   
You smiled at the thought as you looked around the room, the concept that your Dean could become so settled, so content in this seemingly apple-pie life that he always wanted, and with you as well, filled your heart with a feeling of warmth and comfort that you wished would never leave.  
Your eyes then focused in on the photo you’d seen on the small table, squinting a little as you tried to make out what it was from where you were sat. Dean cocked his head in confusion at you for a moment, before following your gaze to the photo you were looking at.  
He smiled warmly as he picked it up, it obvious to you from his calm and happy expression that it was a very treasured memory to him contained within the frame. He gently grazed his fingers across the glass with a fond look in his eyes.  
“It’s the day I proposed to you,” he explained, his gaze remaining on the photo as he reminisced, even his voice holding a deep content warmth to it as he remembered. “I had Sammy there with the camera, ready to take the photo for when I popped the question.” Dean laughed softly and shook his head, “He kept making all these dumb jokes about if he should still take the picture if you said no. Man, he knew how nervous I was… I couldn’t stop shaking.” He finally looked up to you with the smile still on his face, handing the photo across to you.  
Your heartbeat increased as you finally saw the picture in the frame yourself. There it was, as if all this hadn’t been enough, photographic proof of Dean’s proposal to you right there in the patterned silver frame. Dean was down on one knee before you, sliding a glistening silver ring onto your finger, the widest of smiles on both of your faces, and tears brimming over in your eyes. Everyone was there gathered around you, Cas, Bobby, Ellen and Jo, they’d clearly gone all out and thrown a surprise party for the special occasion. You couldn’t help smiling widely as you took in the picture behind the glass, although a sadness hit you soon after as you thought on all those present in the image who had now passed. Or had at least passed in your world.  
“Do you… still have Bobby’s number?” You asked cautiously as you handed the photo back to Dean, hope rising inside you that maybe, just maybe, everyone could still be alive here in this world.   
Dean looked at you with confusion, the expression quickly slashing your hopes that Bobby and the others might still be alive, at least until he answered the question.  
“Of course I have Bobby’s number, (Y/N),” Dean said, still looking baffled. “Why wouldn’t I?”   
Your heart jumped instantly at the news, a smile spreading across your face as you fought back tears. Bobby had been like a father to you and the boys, you couldn’t wait to hear his voice again. Although, as you looked at Dean’s confused face, you didn’t have the heart to tell him that Bobby was no longer living in the world you’d come from.   
“Do you mind if I give him a call?” you asked in the most casual tone you could manage. “Maybe he can help figure this whole memory loss thing out.”   
Dean hummed with a nod, “Good idea.”

 

You punched in the number on the landline phone in the kitchen, feeling pretty confident Bobby would still answer despite it being so early in the morning.   
“Yeah?” the familiar gruff voice answered after a few rings.  
A smile instantly split your face when you heard him, fighting off tears in your eyes once more. “Oh Bobby, you’ve no idea how good it is to hear your voice.” You could just imagine the confused look the old guy would be giving the phone right now.  
“You and Dean that lost without me over there?” he said with his usual dry sarcasm.  
You smirked and wiped your eyes, so happy to hear that Bobby was alive here, wherever ‘here’ was.  
“Look, Bobby, something really weird is going on…”

You explained the situation to him with all the detail that you could, the older man leaving a long pause after you finished your explanation.  
“Well, that’s a new one on me,” he eventually spoke, “how’s Dean taking all this?”   
You bit your lip in thought, looking over to Dean who was watching over you from where he was stood with his back leant against the door frame, arms folded. “Uhm… I don’t think he’s too happy with the situation.”  
Bobby hummed. “I can imagine. His fiancée can’t remember a thing about the last 3 years you’ve spent together. Imagine how the kid feels right now, (Y/N).”  
A guilty look over took your features, a pain hitting your heart to think of how much Dean could be hurting right now. “I want to get this fixed as soon as possible.” You said sincerely, gripping the phone tightly in your hand.  
“I’ll start trawling through my books, see if I can come up with anything.” Bobby said, “Let me know if anything crops up, or if anything else happens that could help narrow this search down.”  
“Got it. Thanks Bobby.” You answered with a nod before hanging up the phone.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean called Sam after you finished talking to Bobby, and decided to take you over to the younger Winchester’s house to see if he had any ideas on this entire situation.  
The walk to Sam’s house was a little awkward, silence filling the air between the two of you as you paced down the road. There was a slight dew on the grass of the lawns that you passed, and a chill in the air that nipped at you through your clothes, although was easily ignored due to the warmth of the rising sun that was just appearing above the roofs of the houses. You could see the odd parent and child leaving their front doors on their way to make the school run, it still surprising you that Dean had seemingly settled in such a family friendly, suburban location.  
As the cold air began to reach your exposed fingers, a sudden urge arose in you to slip your hand into Dean’s, the idea of walking hand in hand like a real couple suddenly more inviting to you than it had ever been before. Although as you looked up to Dean walking besides you, you were more than reluctant to try it. His expression appeared stoic as he stared forward whilst he walked, and you couldn’t help but wonder just what he must’ve been thinking, or how he could be feeling right now as you recalled what Bobby had said. Even though none of this was your fault, as far as you knew, you couldn’t help feeling guilty. A sigh escaped your lips, your breath momentarily visible as a small cloud in the cold air, before you brought your freezing fingers towards your lips and blew onto them in an attempt to warm them a little.   
You didn’t notice Dean’s sideways glance at you as you blew warm air into your cupped hands, the Winchester’s expression taking on a brief look of concern as he watched you for a moment.   
It actually made you jump slightly when one of his large hands suddenly landed on your own, his fingers entwining with yours as he brought your hands down together, your hands now swinging gently between you as you continued to walk.   
“You ok?” he asked as you finally pulled your gaze from your joined hands and looked to his face, surprised to see the concern and love in his features.  
Even if you weren’t from this place, and you didn’t have the same memories Dean did, you could suddenly see it in Dean’s eyes that to him, you were still clearly the person he’d spent the past 3 years of his life with. He still loved and cared for you, and that thought alone was enough to make your heart jump in your chest.   
It was that moment when the sun rose high enough above the houses that Dean’s face was hit by the golden morning light, his eyes wincing a little against the brightness although his concerned gaze didn’t leave your face. His eyes suddenly sparkled fantastically as he looked at you with such care and affection, the sun’s rays bringing the green hues of his irises to light and making your breath catch in your throat. In that one instant, you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen anything more beautiful.  
“Y/N?” Dean asked again, his voice breaking you from your momentary trance that you’d suddenly found yourself in, a dark blush rising on your cheeks.   
“Y-yeah, I’m ok.” You tried to keep your composure but couldn’t help the stutter. “My hands were just a little cold.”  
Dean squeezed your hand in his with a small smile. “I might have some gloves you can borrow…” he stuck his tongue out a little and looked up at the sky as he started searching his pockets with his free hand.  
“No!” you said a little more urgently than you’d intended, your blush only deepening as Dean raised an eyebrow at you in confusion. “T-that’s ok… I prefer this,” you said a little shyly as you squeezed his hand lightly in yours.   
Dean took a quick glance down at your entwined fingers before meeting your gaze once more, a smile gracing his lips as he smirked softly. “If you’re sure.”   
You continued to watch Dean’s face for a moment as he returned to looking forward as you walked, your eyes then falling back to where your hand was in his once more. When the want to walk hand in hand with Dean had struck you, you never once considered it’d actually happen, or that he’d initiate it himself. Even if you knew you were supposed to be the person that Dean loved, and you’d always harboured secret feelings for him, this was nowhere near something you were used to.  
Although you couldn’t deny that this life here truly seemed wonderful, you’d imagined a life like this so many times... but you couldn’t think that way. You needed to get home, back to your Sam and Dean, back to the life you knew.  
Or maybe... maybe this was your life. After all, you still had the scar Dean had pointed out to you, the one you didn’t remember getting. Perhaps this was your life, but for some reason your memories had been lost or altered…  
Or maybe that was just hopeful thinking.   
You let out a silent sigh, you just didn’t know what to believe here.

You were suddenly pulled from your thoughts as Dean came to a halt, and you looked up to him curiously as he nodded towards the house you were stood in front of.  
“This is Sam’s place.” He said simply, the two of you heading to the front door where Dean pulled out his spare key to enter.  
It came almost natural to you as you stepped in and wiped your feet on the doormat, Dean taking off your coat and sliding it from your shoulders and hanging it up, before you both trudged further into the house. It was a little cleaner than yours and Dean’s, there weren’t pairs of shoes randomly piled in the corner of the hall, or the odd dirty shirt discarded and half hanging off the back of the furniture, and there were a lot more floral patterns on the wall paper and curtains, but that didn’t make it feel any less like a home.   
A loud series of barks suddenly caused you to jump and you made a small squeak in surprise, standing on edge as you spotted a large border collie bounding towards you from the kitchen. You flinched when the dog reached you, the animal standing up on its hind legs and padding its paws all over your thighs, panting happily with another bark.   
Once you realised you weren’t under attack, feeling a little foolish for thinking you may have been in the first place, you began stroking and petting the collie over its head and ears, the black and white dog responding positively and starting to pace excitedly at your feet. You knelt down and scratched the dog around its neck with a small giggle, it licking your cheek in response.  
Dean watched you with a smile and chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Well, Jack certainly knows it’s you.”  
“Ah, so his name’s Jack?” you smiled up at Dean, although your expression faltered a little when you saw his brow furrow lightly.   
Dean looked at the ground and shuffled his feet, scratching behind his ear distractedly. “Uh, yeah. I keep forgetting you don’t remember any of this stuff…”  
You felt a pang in your heart again at the thought of just how hard this must be for Dean, wishing you could make this all easier somehow, although you didn’t know where to start.   
“Hey you guys, ever heard of knocking?” Sam’s voice appeared from above, and you looked over to see him just walking down the stairs before heading over to you.  
Dean grinned and patted his younger brother on the back, before waving his keys in Sam’s face. “Spare key, Sammy. Why knock when we can walk in like we own the place?”   
Sam rolled his eyes and smirked, “Because you don’t own the place. Anyway, what’s up?” he took on a more serious tone and dropped his smile, and you could feel the awkward tension suddenly fill the air.  
You stood up from where you’d still been knelt petting Jack, watching as Dean gave you a quick glance before returning his attention to Sam.   
“Why don’t you go sit down, Y/N. We’ll put on some coffee and I’ll fill Sam in.” he said in a slightly quieter voice, a small feeling of hurt hitting inside your chest at Dean clearly wishing to talk without you there, although you tried not to let show that it bothered you.   
You simply nodded, walking through to the living room and sitting down quietly whilst you waited.


	7. Chapter 7

You’d heard shouting from the kitchen as Dean and Sam had gone to talk, the two clearly beginning to argue about something, but any raised voices were followed by instantly lowered tones as they clearly didn’t want you listening in. Despite the Winchesters’ excellent lying capabilities, when they both finally finished talking and returned to speak to you, you couldn’t help feeling more than a little suspicious when Sam rushed to say he had ‘things to do’ with a very disgruntled expression, and Dean all but pushed you out of the house.  
“What’s going on?” you asked Dean in a worried tone as you walked down the road, his hand grasping yours again although lacking the compassion that the action had held previously. It felt more like he was dragging you along the street this time.  
“Nothing,” Dean responded quickly, the smile he threw you clearly manufactured. “Me and Sam, we just uh, we decided that the best thing for you to do now is stay home and rest. I probably shouldn’t have even taken you over there.”  
You cocked your head curiously but didn’t say anything more on the matter, keeping quiet until you’d reached yours and Dean’s home again.   
“So what now?” you asked, the two of you taking off your coats and relishing the warmth of the house compared to how cold it had been outside.  
Dean looked nervous for a moment before smiling again, that smile that tried so hard to be genuine but only confirmed his unease. “I’ll call in at the garage, tell them I won’t be in for a few days. I’ve got to nurse my sick fiancée back to health.” He winked at you playfully, an action that brought your worry some relief considering it looked more natural on Dean’s face compared to that distant smile.  
Although as you thought about what Dean had said, you frowned curiously. “You work at a garage?”  
Dean blinked in confusion for a moment, he still hadn’t adjusted to your sudden lack of knowledge on your current lives. “Uh, yeah. It’s not far from here, but I’d rather stick around and make sure you’re safe.” You smiled at him gratefully and he stepped forward to kiss your forehead. “We’re going to figure this out, ok?” he whispered to you, and you couldn’t help feeling more relaxed, his actions calming and reducing your nerves in an instant.

You spent the rest of the day with Dean after that, where he went through photos with you and reminisced, trying to jog your memory of your last three years together but to no avail. Dean even cooked your favourite meal that night for you, which was strangely something you couldn’t remember ever having tried before. He told you it’s what you ordered at the restaurant he took you to for your one year anniversary, and that was the first time you’d ever tried the dish, but it had been your absolute favourite ever since. Of course you didn’t remember a thing, but it was hard not to be convinced when you tried the food and found it truly was one of the best things you’d ever tasted. Dean had a warm smile on his face the entire time, as if more than anything right now he was just happy to be spending time with you. The way he’d grinned as he thought back on the events in the photos he showed you, or the way he beamed proudly as you enjoyed the meal he cooked, or the little sideways glances he made at you when you sat side by side, each one felt filled with affection and made your heart beat faster and faster. You could’ve sworn that each and every time he saw you smile he seemed to grin just a little bit wider as well, but part of you wondered if that was just your imagination.  
In fact, you still found yourself wondering if all of this was in your imagination, because surely it was far too good to be true. However, watching Dean laugh and smile like this, so relaxed and calm… so happy, you desperately hoped this was real, for his sake. You were beginning to want to stay here in this life more and more too, after all, how could you even know which world was where you belonged? Had you really lost your memories of this life somehow, was this life really yours? Or was this some bizzare kind of alternate dimension, some other world where you didn’t truly belong? You were starting to reach a point where you didn’t even want to know the answer. This was all so hard to deal with. Not to mention, you were in love with Dean, and in this world you two had a life together. You watched him intently as he talked to you and smiled, a heart-warming, affectionate smile that glowed with love and devotion, and you began to wonder whether the Dean you knew had ever looked at you like that. Honestly, you weren’t sure if he had…

You didn’t really notice the night growing later as you and Dean talked. He reminisced and went through all the events of your lives together up until this point, telling you funny stories and inside jokes you shared, places you’d been and the things you’d done together. You asked the odd question every now and then, but for the most part you just listened, happy to watch Dean talk so freely to you, neither of you realising the time until the onset of tiredness began. The conversation started to wear thin, and longer pauses were left between sentences before you were simply sat together in a not-so-uncomfortable silence. Dean was close next to you on the couch, his leg brushing against yours as you both wondered what to say, or if anything even needed to be said right now. You felt as if the night should’ve been cold, but Dean’s close proximity and the small leg-to-leg contact provided you with so much warmth you felt boiling. Or maybe it was just the bashful blush settled on your cheeks that was making you feel so hot.  
“Uh, do you want to go to bed?” Dean eventually asked, finally breaking the silence.  
You looked at the place where your legs were just barely brushing against each other, biting your lip in thought. “Yeah, I’m a little tired,” you replied quietly.  
Dean smiled, lifting his hand that was resting over the back of the couch and idly combing his fingers through your hair, although quickly pulling his hand away when he noticed you freeze up at the action. “Sorry,” he muttered quietly, and you instantly felt bad for reacting in a way that made him stop. “I can sleep on the couch tonight if you like,” he continued, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”  
You smiled at Dean’s consideration, but a part of you couldn’t deny that the idea of sleeping next to him was very, very inviting. Your blush darkened and you fidgeted in your seat as you stared at the floor, your nerves rising as you hoped what you were about to say wouldn’t come across as strange. “Y-you don’t have to.” You stuttered quietly, Dean’s eyes going wide in response.  
“Are you sure?” he said quickly, taking your hand in his.   
You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve known you for a long time anyway, even if I don’t seem to remember the past couple of years. Besides, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have feelings for you…” you admitted the last part with a bashful smile, only glancing at Dean briefly before returning to staring at the floor.  
Dean placed an arm around you and pulled you into a warm hug, kissing the top of your head sweetly. “Thanks…” he murmured softly, a secondary emotion laced into the word although you struggled to pinpoint what it was, nor did you really understand what he was thanking you for. Any second thoughts you had however were forgotten as Dean stood up suddenly and stretched. “Alright, let’s hit the hay.”  
You followed Dean upstairs where you both got ready for bed, before slipping in under the covers together where you instantly realised just how weird this felt to you. Dean was on his side facing you, whilst you lied awkwardly on your back staring up at the ceiling, afraid to do much else whilst next to the man you had such strong feelings for.   
Dean chuckled and placed a hand on your arm, rubbing your skin softly with his thumb. “You can relax, I’m not gonna pounce you. Not unless you want me to, that is.”  
You blushed darkly and let out an embarrassed laugh, fidgeting slightly to get a little more comfortable under the covers.  
“This is exactly how you were like the first time we slept in a bed together.” Dean hummed in thought, although a content smile remained on his face as he watched you.  
You looked at him curiously, tentatively rolling onto your side to face him. “I was?” you asked.  
Dean nodded, “Yeah, like a frightened animal in headlights.” He chuckled and brushed some hair back from your face, “It’s really cute.”  
Your blush darkened and looked away, avoiding eye contact. “How is it?” you asked quietly.  
“Just is,” Dean shrugged, “like a lot of things about you.”  
You looked up at him to find he was still gazing at you with this warm, loving smile, and he slowly lifted a hand to stroke your cheek gently. “Goodnight Y/N,” he said softly, before leaning over and switching off the small beside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.  
“Dean?” you said in a quiet tone after a few minutes passed, hoping you wouldn’t wake him if he’d fallen asleep already.  
“Hm?” you heard a shuffle of bed sheets and a small hum, signifying he was listening.  
“Were we… really happy together?” you asked slowly, unable to believe your lives had truly been as perfect as Dean had been making out to be the entire evening. Everything he’d told you, each memory and moment, each story behind the photos, they were all so wonderful. You could understand why he might leave out the details on any spats or couples’ argument, but you couldn’t help but wonder if your relationship was really as flawless as Dean was painting it to be. It felt as if he tensed up a little after you asked the question, and there was a long pause before he answered. You frowned curiously, wondering what Dean’s facial expression might be had it not been masked by the darkness.  
“Of course we were happy,” Dean eventually said, “why would you ask that?” The hurt and confusion in his voice as to why you’d asked was almost enough to make you forget how long it had taken him to answer the question.  
You stared into the darkness with the frown still on your features, before wondering if the pause had perhaps just been because Dean was tired, maybe he’d silently yawned or been dozing off. You decided to shrug it off, feeling too tired yourself to question much further. “Just wondered,” you said sleepily as you closed your eyes, feeling Dean’s arm wrap around you as he snuggled against you. You smiled at the contact, your tiredness allowing you to feel far more relaxed than before.  
“We’ve had a perfect relationship, Y/N.” Dean said softly, squeezing you gently as you absentmindedly cuddled into his chest with a yawn. “It’s always been perfect…” Dean whispered in your ear as you felt yourself drift into sleep.


End file.
